The one time that they spoke
by Infamousplot
Summary: The two men lived within the same confines of the church, and yet their paths never crossed. Except the one time they did. Lancer almost wished they hadn't.


In all of the time Lancer lived in the church he had only ever spoken with the golden man once.

He had seen him in snippets, a shining blur turning a corner or a pair of feet vanishing up a staircase, but never had they exchanged words. Lancer had never even seen the man's face.

He found him one day- that is to say, the man found him -while he was exploring the church. On the outside it was an average building of meager standing, but inside it proved to be a labyrinth, every day a new hall or door to investigate.

"Keep snooping and you'll lose that nose of yours, hound." a voice, deepened by countless ages, sounded from behind him, and Lancer stood, turning from an unopened door to face the golden man. Eyes like wine watched from beneath blond bangs, the scent of sand unmistakable beneath the normal everyday smells. There was a smirk upon his face as he watched him, calm, knowing, radiating condescension without saying a word.

At first Lancer said nothing. He had no idea what he was supposed to say. All these days of mere glimpses and here he was, no longer a ghost but a physical being, standing before him. Lancer straightened his posture- he was taller than the golden man, but not by much.

"What's it to you?" he replied, arms crossed loosely against his chest. The man continued smirking, the slightest of shrugs rolling off his shoulders. He watched Lancer through narrowed eyes, reminiscent of a snake. He chuckled.

"Allow me to humor you by asking what exactly it is you are searching for." There was something in his tone that made Lancer's mouth curl in disgust, a patronizing vibe smothering archaic words, as he studied him like one would a stock of cattle before choosing which to slaughter. He scoffed.

"Nothing in particular. Just exploring. If I'm staying here, I ought to know the layout."

"Ah, so the tool is acquainting itself with its drawer? Interesting." again he chuckled, a dark humor lingering underneath the laughter. Lancer scowled, waiting for his mirth to die down. It only took a few moments.

"I'm just bored. Gotta kill the time somehow, when I'm not out wasting it with recon." he could not hide the sneer from his face, nor the bitter sarcasm in his voice. He did not care if this man knew of his disdain for his 'Master'. What did the opinions of a tool matter to him anyway?

Beneath gold bangs he swore he saw some flicker of life, of familiarity. He almost felt it spark through the air from one man to the other, and for a moment, he thought he was looking at another prisoner of this wretched church.

The spark died as quickly as it came to life, and once more dull snake eyes were hidden away in shadows. The man smirked.

"If you're so curious about the secrets this place holds, I suggest you dig a little deeper," he bared his teeth like a beast as he grinned, words holding implications that Lancer could not understand. With that, the man's hands slid into his pockets and he walked, languid yet regal, all at once.

He passed him slowly, pausing for only a second at his side, his voice a silent breathing by his ear.

"But don't look in the basement."

Then he was gone. Down the hall, around the corner, out of sight but not yet out of mind. No, he did not leave his mind for quite some time, after that transaction. Lancer pondered his words for days, as he traversed the endless halls of the church.

He found the door, down on the lowest level. A large, thick, wooden door, with the old stairs that lead down into the dark. The moment it opened he knew it held something wrong- the scent of death rose slowly from beneath, curling around him almost lazily, becoming thicker and thicker as he descended. It was putrid, enough to make his eyes water- and as he lit a flame upon his fingers to get a better look, he wished he had taken the man's advice.

He looked for him, after that. His mind was alive and burning with questions, like the runes of fire that burned his hand in the basement tomb. He needed answers, about everything, but Kotomine would not provide them even if he asked.

Lancer looked for him… but he never saw him again.


End file.
